


Water's Rough

by ShowMeAHero



Series: Still Here Tomorrow [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Children, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: eight years, eleven months, one week, and six days ago.





	Water's Rough

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by something Joanna and I were toying around with.
> 
> Title taken from ["Ours"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yl0VI7QGM5s) by Taylor Swift.

_eight years, eleven months, one week, and six days ago_

.

.

.

Foggy wakes up with a jolt, and it takes a few moments for him to realize why he’s even awake. When he _does_ realize, he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. He can hear the baby crying across the room, but his limbs are so exhausted he can’t make himself move. He feels Matt stir next to him, but he pats him.

“I got him,” Foggy whispers. Matt tugs his pillow over his head and nods. Foggy knows the sounds of Jack crying are a lot, but he’s starting to get a _little_ agitated at the fact that Matt really hasn’t been able to do much of anything.

Jack’s full-on crying by the time Foggy gets to him, so Foggy just strips off his t-shirt, picks Jack up, and presses him against his skin. Jack keeps on screaming, so Foggy just starts rocking him back and forth. Jack starts calming down, his cries start softening, and Foggy just keeps going until Jack’s quiet again. He sits down on the edge of the bed and strokes Jack’s hair back out of his face.

“How is he?” Matt asks, voice hushed. Foggy doesn’t look away from Jack’s face.

“He’s okay,” Foggy tells him. “Will you take him for a second?”

Matt doesn’t say anything. Foggy finally looks away, turns back to glance at Matt. Matt’s taken the pillow off his head, but he’s just not even turned in Foggy’s direction. His face is turned up, towards the ceiling. His eyes, unfocused as ever, stare into the darkness. Finally, he sighs, sits up.

“I don’t know,” Matt says. Foggy’s exhausted. He’s just so fucking _tired._

“You never hold him,” Foggy points out. Matt flinches. He scratches at the back of his head. “Why don’t you ever hold him? What’re you afraid of?”

Matt doesn’t answer for a little while. Then, he says, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Foggy turns fully, folding his legs up under himself. He holds Jack tight against his chest and studies Matt’s face for a second.

“You think you’re going to hurt him?” Foggy asks. Matt half-shrugs, turning his face down towards the bed. “You’re not going to.”

“You don’t know that,” Matt says. “You don’t know what I could do. I’m— Foggy, I’m _dangerous._ I— My— I can’t trust myself. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I, if I dropped him, or— or held him too tightly, or if he doesn’t— doesn’t _like_ me, or _trust_ me, I don’t know, how could I— What if I—” Matt exhales sharply and runs his hands through his hair. It sticks up all over the place. Foggy refuses to find it endearing right now. “I can’t. I don’t— I _can’t do it,_ Foggy.”

Foggy just stares at him. “Okay, first of all, you’re not going to hurt him. You’re not _dangerous,_ Matt. You’re, like, strong, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hold a baby. _I_ could drop him. _Anything_ could happen. You couldn’t do anything I couldn’t.”

Matt shakes his head. “No, Foggy— That’s not what I _mean._ I’m— I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this.”

Foggy’s hands go numb. He feels like his chest is made out of his lead, but his heart’s pounding, faster than he’s ever felt it go before. He’s got tunnel vision, he can only see Jack, and then he can’t see anything. He squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to calm his breathing down, and he reminds himself that he’s got Jack in his arms, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

“—gy? Foggy? Hey, come on, Foggy, what’s happening, you have to talk to me,” Matt’s saying. Foggy’s ears are ringing. He gets up with Jack and forces himself to walk back and forth until he can feel his legs again. Jack’s still quiet and calm, but Foggy’s pulse is racing. Foggy feels a hand on his arm, and he jerks away. He looks back, and Matt’s shrinking away from him. Foggy can’t make himself feel bad about it.

“Matt, don’t,” Foggy tells him. His voice feels raspy and thin. “You can’t say something like that. Not to me. Matt, he’s already _here._ You’re his _father.”_

“I don’t know, Foggy, I just—” Matt sighs, puts his head in his hands. His face is red and crumpled. Foggy looks away. “I didn’t realize until he was here, but I— I’m not good at this. I’m just going to hurt him. I’m just going to— I’m going to make his life so much worse. I can’t even— I’m only going to hurt him, Foggy, and I can’t even—” Matt turns his face up towards Foggy’s. Foggy knows he can’t see him, but he looks at Matt’s eyes anyways. Force of habit. “I can’t even see him, Foggy. I can’t even— It hurts so _badly._ I can’t even see him. I never can. God, Foggy, I just— I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Foggy stops pacing and looks down at Matt. He just stares at him, hard, before he looks back at Jack. Jack’s just a baby. He’s just a _baby,_ with the tiniest nose, with freckles all over his face and his body, with red hair and sleepy blue eyes. He’s a _baby._

“Did you know my mother abandoned me?” Foggy asks. He sits down on the edge of the bed again. He doesn’t look up at Matt.

“Yeah,” Matt answers. “Of course— Yeah, Foggy, of course I know that, I’m just saying that I—”

“Then you know,” Foggy interrupts him. “You know she abandoned me when I was two months old. Two months old, Matt. Just left me and my dad behind. And I know you hurt. I _know_ how much you hurt. But— Imagine how I feel. For a second. Imagine how I feel hearing you talk about— about how you can’t do this? He’s _two weeks old,_ Matt. _Barely_ two weeks old.” Foggy wipes at his eyes and catches his breath. “You know, my parents probably had this same conversation. Right? My mom saying she couldn’t do this, my dad trying to argue with her. But my mom decided I wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth trying to get over all of that— whatever it was that she couldn’t get past, to be my mother. So.” Foggy looks at Jack’s face. “Imagine how much I hurt, too, Matt. When you’re _just saying,_ think about how what you’re saying sounds to me.”

Matt’s silent. Foggy turns back to look at him, and Matt’s crying noiselessly. He’s got tears just streaming down his cheeks. It makes the back of Foggy’s eyes burn, his nose prickles; he starts crying, and he has to look away from him.

“I won’t leave you,” Matt tells him. “Or Jack. I won’t. I can— I can do this. I shouldn’t’ve— Foggy, I’m so sorry.” Matt reaches out and puts his hand on Foggy’s shoulder, and Foggy flinches back. Matt’s hand snaps back, and he holds it against his chest. Foggy doesn’t know how to feel about it.

“You can’t say that,” Foggy tells him. “You can’t say something like that. We have a _son,_ Matt. You’re his _father._ I don’t care how blind or angry or strong or stupid you are. I don’t care, I don’t— I just don’t _fucking_ care. All I care about is you being a good father. That’s it.” Foggy keeps looking down at Jack. He realizes, in this moment, he would do _anything_ for him. He knew that already; he knew he’d die for him, kill for him, do anything for his son. In this exact moment, though, he realizes that _anything_ includes turning on Matt. If Matt did anything that hurt his son, even emotionally, even mentally, even the _slightest_ bit, Foggy would turn on him. He’d leave him, if it was the best thing for his son. He’d do absolutely _anything._

“Foggy,” Matt says, softly. “Are you okay?”

Foggy huffs a laugh that’s absolutely humorless. “No, I’m _not okay,_ Matt. You just said you were thinking about abandoning me and our son and gave me a panic attack at— What, what time is it?”

Matt feels for the clock, then says, “Two-thirteen.”

 _“Two-thirteen in the morning,”_ Foggy finishes.

“I’d never abandon you,” Matt tells him. “I promise. I didn’t— I don’t know what I meant. Or what I feel. But I’d— I can’t. I’d never. I mean— I meant I don’t know— I don’t know what I’m doing. Or how to do it. And I’m scared.”

Foggy reaches out and takes one of Matt’s hands in his. He drags it up and presses it forcefully against his own face.

“Feel that?” Foggy asks. Matt nods, hesitantly. “That’s my face. You don’t need to see my face. You feel it. You know it’s there. You love me, I love you. It hurts that you can’t see me, yeah, but I know you love me and I don’t think you love me any less for not being able to see me. I don’t think you’re hurting me. I know this hurts you, I know it does, and it hurts me, too, but this is my face. It’s here, even if you can’t see it.” Foggy turns his face into Matt’s palm. Matt’s still crying. “I’m here. We’re doing this _together._ I can see his face. I can tell you everything, I can tell you every tiny detail about him, and I can show you how to hold him, and you can tell me if his heart rate is elevated, and you can relate to him when he inevitably turns out exactly like you.” Foggy shuts his eyes. Matt’s fingers tighten a little bit on Foggy’s face. “We’re doing this together, Matt. I love you. You’re not alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Matt repeats. “I’d never abandon you. I’m not like your mom.”

“You’d better not be,” Foggy says. Matt huffs a teary laugh.

“Foggy, I’m sorry,” Matt tells him. “I’m so, _so_ sorry. I knew about your mom, and I— I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You should always tell me how you’re feeling,” Foggy tells him. “Always. I mean, just— You could’ve phrased it better.”

Matt nods. “My mom left me, too.”

“I know,” Foggy says.

“So, I should’ve known how horrible that would be,” Matt says, “for me to say. I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t,” Foggy says. Matt turns his face in, strokes Foggy’s hair back behind his ear and leans in to kiss him, slowly, chaste, before he deepens it. He sighs, and Foggy pulls back, leaning their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Matt tells him. “So much. I love you _so much,_ Foggy, both of you, and I’d— I’d never do anything to hurt you. Not on purpose. I’m so sorry, and you don’t— You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” Foggy tells him. He does; he _knows_ Matt’s sorry, and he knows, just from looking at Matt’s face, how guilty he feels. Classic Matt and his Catholic guilt, he’ll probably be praying about this for months, if not years. But, Foggy— Foggy’s not a prayer. He’s not a believer. He’s just afraid. He’ll probably think about this for years. This will come back to haunt him, in the darkest moments at night, and he’s a little worried that he’ll forever be the tiniest bit afraid that Matt will think this again, someday, and change his mind.

“Okay,” Matt says. He knows, too. Foggy can hear it in his voice. Matt doesn’t say anything, for a moment, before he holds out his hands. “Can I— Can you give Jack to me?”

Foggy nods. “I just nodded.”

“I know,” Matt says. Foggy carefully pulls Jack away from his chest and settles him in Matt’s open hands. Matt’s hands are big, and scarred, but his fingers move instinctively to cradle the back of Jack’s head and support his neck. He’s held Jack a couple of times since he was born. Matt’s head is turned down towards Jack; he can’t see him, but Foggy can tell that he’s listening. He assumes he’s listening to Jack’s heart.

“What do you hear?” Foggy asks. Matt turns his head slightly, cocking it a little bit. Foggy leans against his side.

“Everything,” Matt tells him. Jack’s slowly falling asleep, and Foggy settles down, just a little bit. He exhales, shakily, and takes a deep breath in.

* * *

_now_

.

.

.

“First one to tag the counter wins!” Jack screams, and he and Molly take off at a dead sprint towards the kitchen. Foggy darts in and grabs Jack by the back of his shirt, lifting him up into the air. Jack’s nine years old today; he’s pretty close to being too big for Foggy to pick up anymore. He’s already close to the line.

“What did I say about running inside?” Foggy asks. He sets Jack back on his feet, and Molly slams into Foggy’s legs, nearly knocking him right over. _“Margaret Paige Murdock, I swear to God—”_

“Lord’s name in vain,” Matt comments from the living room where he’s hanging up a birthday banner. It’s slightly crooked, but Lord knows Foggy’s not going to say anything about it.

“I don’t need the thought police today, Matt!” Foggy calls back to him. Matt laughs. Foggy pushes Jack and Molly back two steps and puts a hand on one shoulder each. They both look back at him, wary. “Now, what’re we going to do today?”

“Behave,” Jack and Molly both say at once. Molly grins.

“And why are we behaving?” Foggy asks.

“Because it’s Jack’s birthday,” Molly says.

“And the way we act at the party reflects on the family,” Jack finishes. Foggy nods.

“And what do Murdocks do?” Foggy asks.

“The right thing,” Jack and Molly say together. Foggy kisses Jack on the forehead, then does the same with Molly.

“The right thing,” Matt says himself, a moment too late. He turns his head towards Foggy, smiling. “Can I get a kiss, too?”

Foggy sighs, acting put-upon. He releases Jack and Molly and goes to Matt, moving to kiss him on the cheek. Matt turns his face at the last second and catches his lips, deepening the kiss once he has Foggy in it.

“I love you,” Matt whispers. Foggy grins.

“Love you, too,” Foggy says. “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking about when Jack was born,” Matt says, and the look on his face tells Foggy exactly what night he was thinking about. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s been nine years,” Foggy reminds him. “I think you’re good. If you left at this point, I’d be more surprised at the break in routine than anything.”

“Foggy,” Matt says, laughing. “No, I’m serious. I mean it. I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

“Again, as I’ve said six thousand times over the last nine years, I forgive you and I love you and it’s _fine,”_ Foggy says. “We’ve made it this far.”

Matt nods, making a noise of assent. He cocks his head to the side a little bit. “You said you wanted to have another baby.”

Foggy’s heart starts pounding instantly. “Do you— I mean, it was just a thought. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“What if I want it to mean something?” Matt asks. “If we wanted— I mean. If we wanted another one, we should do it soon. Molly’s already six.”

Foggy hesitates, reading Matt’s face. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am,” Matt says. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere.” Matt does kiss Foggy’s cheek this time. “Not without you.”

“You were a sap nine years ago and you’re a sap now, Murdock,” Foggy comments. Matt laughs.

“I plead the fifth,” Matt tells him. Foggy kisses him again, until someone slams into his legs from below and nearly gives them both a concussion.

_“Margaret Murdock, I swear to goddamned Jesus—”_

“How many times do I have to tell you—” Matt starts saying, but he starts laughing too hard to finish. “Foggy, fuck—”

“Okay, that’s way worse,” Foggy says, as Jack and Molly both shriek, “Swear jar!”

“I changed my mind, I’m returning these two and we’re going to be childless again,” Matt says. Foggy knocks their heads together lightly and pulls away to haul Jack up onto his feet again and send them both back on their way to finish decorating.

“Nice try, Murdock,” Foggy tells him. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Good,” Matt says, not a hint of joking in his tone, and Foggy’s heart is warm. He’s just— He is so, _so_ warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I also actually wrote some books! It was a long road but, I did it! Ta-da! If you want to read either of them, shoot me a message!
> 
> I have a blog now to request imagines - I just like to make people happy. Submit requests [here!](https://imagine-in-the-fandoms.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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